The Wrong Impression alekona 08.24.99
not being able to say
exactly what she needed to say
makes her sick to her stomach
wanting to cover them
all of them!
in the dregs of her being
make them feel her misery
like the bass pounding though the floor
cover them all in a blanket of her tears
make them wet
dripping with her pain
show them what real pain feels like
cover them with a cloud of a thousand knives
slowly peeling them apart
ripping their hearts out
until they cant feel anymore
Then they would know.
all of them!
why she comes, tears on her face
scars on her wrists
sick to her stomach
this is for abe, because i remember him being in the hall when i wrote it and he was nice to me that day.